


The Long Way

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Healing, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: Ignis noticed how harsh Noctis' journey was, that Gladiolus and him had far too much to worry about, and Prompto's distracted behavior. Something had to give (or be given).





	

**Author's Note:**

> _This was never supposed to get so long_ I've chanted to demishock as page after page of this story was written over the span of several sleepless months. Bless my friend's soul for sticking with me through the entire process, and helping me to edit the story-that-didn't-want-to-end. I'm shocked and amazed that I even managed to post it before the game has actually dropped (although if the release date hadn't changed from September to November, it definitely wouldn't have!). 
> 
> Obviously, this story pre-dates the release of _Final Fantasy XV (Versus)_ , but please be advised that there are potential references (and thus spoilers) for any of the content revealed so far in the movie/anime/demo videos! Feel free to come back and read this after November. Just be prepared that the content of this story may not align with game play/story line content afterwards.

Ignis shifted on his feet, crossing and uncrossing his arms. There wasn't much to be done from the sidelines but observe as Gladiolus schooled their young charge, Noctis, in the ways of combat. It was plain to see that the prince was struggling to keep pace with his guardian's unrelenting tactics, which made the scene difficult for Ignis to watch and not interfere.

He had to rationalize that such practices were a necessary evil. Insomnia's isolation had made some naively believe they were above the hardships of war – turning them soft and trusting, despite the paranoia. Reports on the assaults and vicious takeovers in the surrounding territories were barely rumors beyond the capital's safe haven of steel, stone, and the barrier of protection. Only the late King Regis had been wise enough to see the signs and prepare for the possibility of a fallout during peace talks.

His son would need to be as self-sufficient as the city they once lived in. While Noctis was disciplined in staying his hand at opportunities for amity, he too must be aware of how to defend himself. Ignis understood, and even found the reasoning in it all, but the single fact remained that Noctis training to gain steady control over his increasing powers for such conventions as warfare were still so _cruel_. This whole bloody world was unfair, and no amount of analysis could ease the burden of witnessing his prince have to grow up far too quickly.

Ignis' disapproval never showed on his face, however, nor did he voice complaints during Noctis' practices. Blubbering would not change matters; what had occurred was over and done with, and now all four of them must learn to adapt to the situation. Noctis needed to become better fairly quickly if there was any hope for them to defeat the Niflheim Empire and regain their home. Ignis had sworn an oath to help him back to the throne and he would not belittle the prince's sacrifices. If Gladiolus, and in turn him, must be firm to achieve this outcome, then so be it.

A loud exhale cut through Ignis' dark reflections. The fourth member of their merry band of exiles, Prompto, had settled at his feet. Squatted low to the ground, Prompto's knees were almost to his ears and his chin rested in his hands. His fingers applied enough pressure to his cheeks to stretch them back.

"Bored, are you?" Ignis asked, raising an eyebrow. When Prompto didn't react to the bait, or acknowledge in the slightest that he'd heard, Ignis' other eyebrow rose to match. Bending forward and planting his hands on his thighs, he peered closer at the blond man's face. "Prompto, are you listening to me?"

For a moment his focus remained on Noctis and Gladiolus fighting one another, eyes flickering to match each of their movements, before noticing that Ignis had addressed him. Prompto's gaze cut to meet his, eyes opening wider. "Oh, uh, did you say something? Sorry, I missed it."

"You need to pay closer attention to your surroundings," Ignis chided. Shaking his head, he straightened and resumed leaning against the boulder at their backs. "Need I remind you that the enemy can strike us at a moment's notice?"

Prompto snorted, chin sliding through his hands, and let his arms dangle over his knees now that they weren't supporting his head. "As if you need to. How could I forget when it feels like those M.T.s are dropping in every five minutes?"

While exaggerated, Ignis had calculated that the Magitek Troopers _were_ making more frequent patrols. The interruptions were bothersome, not to mention growing more dangerous as their numbers had begun to increase. If their group didn't find a way to repair the Regalia soon they may very well become overrun here. Yet another setback his prince must suffer; like most things as of late, luck was not on their side.

Curious, Ignis was resolute. "What has you so preoccupied, hm? It's unlike you to be this intent for any length of time."

"Eyyy, quit it!" Prompto gave Ignis' leg a bump with his knuckles. "I can be all kinds of focused when I want to be."

"Is that so?" He waited for an elaboration, but it never came. Hunching his shoulders up to his ears, Prompto became engrossed in the lengthy fisticuffs again. "Very well. Then just be certain not to overdo it. In the heat of battle a narrowed mind can be just as costly as a distracted one."

"I thought you wanted me to pay attention, but now you're telling me not to? How does _that_ make sense?" Prompto asked. He craned his neck, his hair flopping to the side like a dog's ears, and expression inscrutable.

Ignis said, "Don't be daft. Of course we need you to concentrate, but if your scope is too small you're just as likely to miss something vital. The Imperial Army took us by surprise once; let us see to it that history does not repeat itself."

"Ah, right…"

The reminder of their immense loss had Prompto's eyes wavering and mouth twisting in the most bitter of ways. Ignis did not regret raising the subject. He was fueled by the wretched memory, it forcing him to press onward through the mourning and betrayal and regret. Not that he considered for a moment that Prompto would ever forget such a travesty, but it served Ignis well and it might persuade his compatriot, too. Whatever it took to keep them alive, really.

Noctis finally landed a hard enough hit to illicit a reaction from Gladiolus. The air was knocked out of him; the response broke the depressing quiet that had begun to overshadow the two observers. Straightening from his slouched position on the giant rock, Ignis gave two, precise claps. "Excellent form, Your Highness! Keep up the good show."

After a beat or two where he was panting, the prince gave him an idle thumbs up. He seemed geared to keep fighting despite the sweat at his brow, but Gladiolus had regained his breath. He laughed and unbent from being doubled-over, putting a heavy arm around Noctis' shoulders.

"Heh, enough! All right, I think we're done for the day."

"Convenient," Noctis said, headbutting Gladiolus in the chest since the other man's weight pushed him so low. "You wanting to stop just before you're about to lose?"

He said, "Whatever, like you stood a chance. But let's save the real fighting for those Niflheim goons. You'll need your strength if—" Gladiolus paused mid-sentence, glancing skyward.

 _Engines_ , Ignis identified the clanking and whirring noise that came from a distance. Whirling around, he spotted a drop ship encroaching on the group. Those heartless, vile machines that posed as knights didn't even wait until the aircraft was over them before leaping out the stern. Their impact could be felt as they landed unharmed from the several meter dead-drop.

Prompto pushed himself up, raising both arms to shield his face as the airship flew overhead and away. The magnitude on the output of its engines kicked up so much dirt that it blinded them. Through his coughing, Prompto said, "Aw man, I totally blame you for this, Gladio!"

" _Me?_ " Gladiolus was utterly unfazed at the accusation, though he was intent on the soldiers that started to rush the group. His broadsword materialized in his raised hand, the blunt end thumping hard onto his shoulder as its weight became solid.

"Yeah, you had to jinx us. Way to go!" Prompto whimpered. "Seriously, can't we go one day without these things ambushing us?"

"Cut the chatter," Ignis ordered, and summoned his own weapons, locking daggers with the first Magitek Trooper.

Noctis must have been in agreement because the prince wasted no time on words. One moment he was across the open field and in the next he stood beside Ignis. Appearing out of the wisps of cool light, Noctis stabbed the enemy in the back with a spear. Twirling, the spear disappeared and was replaced with a shorter blade when he finished his turn. Together their rapid stabs and cuts made short work of the machine.

Two other M.T.s replaced their fallen compatriot. This seemed to repeat itself whenever Ignis or his traveling companions felled an enemy soldier. The invading kingdom wasted no expense on its soulless armies, amassing quite the collection. Disgusted, Ignis struck one in the throat. Red, heated sparks shot from its entire frame as it collapsed to the ground to be stomped on by his shoe for good measure.

Despite the flurry of battle he never lost track of what was happening, ever vigilant. Gladiolus could be impeccably trusted to take care of himself. In Ignis' peripheral vision the royal guard was taking on two knights by himself. The length of his broadsword, combined with the strength of his swing, shattered both machines like glass.

The hardest to keep track of was their prince. Noctis' tendency to rush into conflict was something that had never wavered, no matter how desperately his father tried to raise him otherwise. Where the king had been infinitely patient, his son exhibited a more forward, hands-on approach. His father once imparted to Ignis that surely it was a phase, that he would grow out of it and learn to observe rather than act all the time, but Ignis had his doubts. If he were to be honest, the assault on their home might have even accelerated the prince's rash tendencies.

All the same, through sheer force of will he'd learned how to track His Highness' movements. Situated in between himself and Gladiolus as Noctis was now, he felt confident that if the worst were to happen, he'd reach him.

As for Prompto… His adversaries had forced him towards the outskirts of the skirmish. He'd taken a stance some ways from the center of the fighting and resorted to short, scattered bursts of fire. Sighting down his gun, Prompto was slow in returning fire, as if having difficulty calculating who to help with his ranged attacks.

Which may explain why Ignis saw the impending assault and the blond man remained oblivious. Alarmed, he couldn't shout a warning, there not enough time. Ignis let fly one of his daggers with a precise flick of his wrist. It whizzed past Prompto's arm, leaving nary a knick on him. The blade embedded itself dead center in the M.T.s forehead, rendering the machine immobile. Rushing over, he wrenched his dagger out with more force than was necessary.

"What did I tell you?" Ignis' words came out in an uncharacteristic hiss. Flicking his dagger to dispel some of the oil that liberally coated the metal, he stared Prompto down. "Watch yourself, for pity's sake."

Prompto shirked back, but thankfully his hands only tightened on his gun rather than losing his grip. "Yeah, s-sorry. I wasn't, I mean…"

In the end his negligence didn't matter. Everyone was showing signs of fatigue, in one form or another. The volume of enemy forces was too great. Perhaps the group would have stood a better chance if the initial wave of knights were all they need contend with, but a second military ship was on the horizon. A back-to-back assault was not something they'd accounted for.

"Head for the forest," Gladiolus advised, sensing what Ignis did, and nodded his head eastward where a mass of trees and mountain landscape lay. A small cluster of foliage was past the road opposite, if they could hoof it there, but it was too sparse for their purposes. It was unlikely that the enemy would lose track of them there. Options limited, they had no choice but to risk the long trek and hope they made it past the lakes.

Ushering Prompto ahead, Ignis made certain him and Noctis were in the lead before trailing after them. Gladiolus took up the rear. The machines lumbered after them at a sedate tempo, movements jerky, but their pace was steady and relentless. Picket fences and wild animals hindered the team's progress, slowing them down as everyone had to wind their way through the obstacles.

The tree line was close. Thankfully, Noctis was spry and arrived first. Warping the last stretch of the journey, he vanished into the bushes. Ignis skidded to a halt just clear of the border, motioning for the other two to hurry. Prompto had started to lag behind. Gladiolus caught up to him and would have surpassed the shorter man if he hadn't snagged Prompto by his belt, practically dragging him across the forest threshold.

As soon as they were gone Ignis scanned the terrain. Only a handful of soldiers had managed to keep up, but none were close enough to pose as an immediate threat. Some had been damaged and fallen apart along the way, while the remaining troops had lost sight of their targets and wandered around in circles searching for them. To be safe, Ignis masked their trail as they hid deeper into the trees.

When he caught up with the others he found Noctis collapsed at the base of a tree, one arm outstretched on a raised knee with his eyes closed. Prompto, gasping for air, collapsed against the prince's side. The only one left standing was Gladiolus, who tensed at the rustling of the underbrush as Ignis made his presence known. He smiled and gave a curt wave at finding it was just the last member of their group rejoining them.

"Any stragglers?" Gladiolus asked.

"None whatsoever. Even if a few were persistent I dare say they won't be able detect our presence. I still suggest we make ourselves scarce." A glance at their two younger companions had Ignis amend, "After a short breather, of course."

"Do you really think they'll come this far?" Prompto asked. His breathing kept coming in brief gasps and he'd reached to hold onto his side. Perhaps the frantic racing around had given him a stitch in his side, but to ignore his discomfort might risk them missing something more serious.

Ignis may have felt a slight pang of guilt at his earlier drop in calm. That wasn't why he retrieved a canteen from his person and approached him, Ignis adamantly reasoned, reaffirming that it was best to make certain no one had been hurt. They couldn't afford to slow down, not when they'd come so far and still had so much further to go.

"If there is one thing I do not doubt it is the Empire's tenacity. Let us not linger for too long," he answered, and offered the water to Prompto, who excitedly accepted the drink. "Will you be able to carry on?"

"Mm!" Prompto choked, forgetting to finish swallowing his sip of water before answering. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he said, "I'd run forever to get away from those freaks, don't worry. I just need my second wind. What about you, Noct?"

The prince looked to be asleep. His lashes fluttered, however, indicating that he wasn't truly out of it. Prompto waved the container in front of his face, sloshing liquid everywhere and some droplets smacked Noctis in the nose. Flinching from either the wet, the cold, or both he peeked open an eye. "Hellooo? Come on, I know you want some of this. Drink-y, drink-y!"

"Not thirsty," Noctis said, and clamped shut his eye.

Prompto continued to pester him and Ignis left him to it. The youngest of their lot were obviously unaffected by the outcome of the enemy encounter – at least, physically. And if anyone could get the prince to cooperate it was their resident gunner. His special brand of persistence was surprisingly effective. During their recuperation Ignis wandered over to Gladiolus, who'd traveled a short distance to presumably keep watch. He stood at attention between two large trees, hands resting on his upper arms.

"I hid our tracks well," Ignis reminded him, but he wasn't against joining him to check that they were still alone.

"I believe you. Those wolves can still track us by scent. I'd rather not take any chances today," Gladiolus said.

"Ah."

A valid point, given their recent misfortune. Sabertusks, brown canines with vicious tusks and equally ferocious appetites, and their close cousins, saberclaws, frequented this region. The beasts preferred weaker prey, but never scouted alone and could signal nearby pack members to help take down a threat. If they didn't dispose of such creatures swiftly, then they could be just as overrun with the animals as they could the Empire troops. The best method thus far was to detect the animals before any detected _them_ , which required a great deal of vigilance on their part, and to avoid them at all costs.

Idly, Ignis rubbed the pads of his fingers across his brow. It was exhausting work, to be so consistently mindful of all the things intent on maiming or killing them. Sharing the burden with Gladiolus made the endeavor somewhat manageable, but no less frustrating.

Gladiolus asked, "Everything okay?"

"Marvelous," he said, unable to keep the bitterness and sarcasm at bay. Already the day's events had seen fit to get on his very last nerve. Hoping to recover from one of them, Ignis asked, "Although, have you noticed anything…peculiar about Prompto?"

"You mean more than usual?"

Ignis scoffed and said, "I'm afraid to say, but my inquiry is an honest one. Ever since this morning he has struck me as a little odd. Did he mention anything to you?"

Scratching his chin, Gladiolus relaxed his stance. He leaned on a nearby tree trunk and glanced over his shoulder at the blond man in question. He'd moved on from hydrating Noctis to climbing the tree they'd rested by. It wasn't a _big_ tree, its trunk barely larger than his arm span, but that didn't deter him from struggling to shimmy up to the lowest branches.

Noctis continued to nap, or pretended to do so, until Prompto nudged him with a foot. He swatted at his friend, but Prompto swung his boot backward to avoid the discouraging motion until he could prod him with a toe again. At his insistence, Noctis teleported up beside him, almost sending Prompto plummeting back to the ground when he startled so badly. He gave Prompto a boost, who in turn gripped his hand and helped Noctis reach the higher branches.

"I don't know. Prom looks fine to me?" Gladiolus said, although Ignis detected the hint of a question there. Such an observation was proven correct as the corners of his mouth slanted downward and Gladiolus continued with, "I guess I did catch him out of it once or twice. Why do you ask?"

"The same can be said for me. Earlier, as you and Noct were sparring – and again, during that confrontation just now – his attention was elsewhere. Do you think it's serious?"

Gladiolus stared at him from the corner of his eye. "Do _you?_ "

"I asked first."

"Ugh. Maybe?" He ran a hand over and down his face. "We could just ask him, you know. Prom can be an open book sometimes. Most of the time. Pretty much always."

"I have, and to little avail," Ignis confessed, the outcome of which was most troubling. If Prompto were actively _hiding_ something, and from them no less, then he wasn't sure what to think anymore. Gladiolus' thoughts might have followed in a similar vein because his frown deepened.

"Then try harder." Ignis' eyebrow arched, and he needn't speak before Gladiolus elaborated. "Look, Noct has been restless, too. He's…high-strung, and I was planning on taking him on an outing with just the two of us to alleviate some of the tension. You think if we divide and conquer, you can get Prom to open up some more?"

Protests rose to mind. There were so many things that could go wrong, and Ignis wasn't comfortable knowing not one, but two of their group were exploring on their own. Those objections never got spoken.

He'd followed Gladiolus' gaze and watched Noctis and Prompto as they climbed higher, reaching the top. Their prince offered Prompto a steady shoulder, the both of them situated on a single, sturdy branch. It was impossible to discern what they were talking about, but they seemed to be recounting far-off landmarks.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt." Ignis held no illusions that without his supervision, Gladiolus and Noctis wouldn't stay out of trouble tomorrow, but if anyone could get the prince _out_ of trouble it would be his royal guard. And with the additional privacy, perhaps Prompto would feel better inclined to discuss whatever ailed him.

Trying to get a nicer view, Prompto smacked himself in the face with some leaves.

"We have our work cut out for us," Gladiolus said.

"Hn."

It was with that in mind that Ignis woke up bright and early to start breakfast, turning off his cell phone's alarm far earlier than it was ever set to go off. Last night they'd made camp at the recesses of the forest, on a rocky outcropping. If trouble came from the west, where they'd originated, then the group could retreat to the trees once more, but if they were overrun then traveling down the slope they could take advantage of the open fields to retaliate. But come sunrise there were nothing but garulas to keep the traveling group company.

He stretched, raising his arms high above his head and achieving a couple of loud pops in his spine from his toll of sleeping on the ground. Ignis hadn't considered himself altogether so spoiled until sleeping in car seats, tents, or well-used caravans made him wish for palace beds. He dismissed such desires as they trickled in; there was nothing to be done about their old lifestyle except later taking it from Niflheim's hide. _Much_ later, if Gladiolus' snores and Prompto's tossing was any indication.

Expecting no less than twenty minutes to pass before the others would be joining him, Ignis stoked the fire pit in their portable grill and contemplated what to prepare. Their manufactured foods were dwindling. The coffee embargo had also made his preferred brand of drink scarce and he was growing alarmingly low on Ebony, but knowing the task later at hand he didn't consider it a waste of resources as he placed a coffeepot on one side of the fire. He was the sole individual that drank it willingly, the others preferring the hot coco or sodas they'd stashed.

As for food… Ignis grimaced at their slim selection. A great deal of their supplies were too heavy to consume first thing in the morning; the meats were gamey and tough, needing to be slow stewed throughout the day or marinated to be made edible. If they had eggs, perhaps he could have combined them with animal diced fine enough to soften in the skillet, but Ignis would need to be more creative than that.

Perusing the bottom of the carrying bag that stored all their food he found some sachets of oatmeal still vacuum-packed. The gruel wasn't ideal, but if he added some of the berries Prompto had scavenged during their travels it would generate some flavor. This time of year the fruit was sweet rather than tart, in full-swing of the harvest season. Setting a pot to boil, he added the packets of oatmeal in the steaming water to plump up and be stirred.

The dish was easy to make and fast to complete. After all the water was absorbed there wasn't much else to do save leave it in the pot to soften and sip his now-heated coffee. Life was peaceful, for once, though Ignis couldn't let himself fully enjoy it. Those soldiers did not know the meaning of rest nor appreciation for sunrises, liable to drop in at a moment's notice.

Gladiolus was next to awaken. Running a hand through the streak of longer hair on the top of his head, he mussed more than straightened it like he may have intended. He yawned and stretched, eliciting his own series of snaps and pops as joints realigned and old wounds were sorted out.

"Mornin'," he greeted, and headed right for the cooler. Whereas most of their group preferred drinks at supper, Gladiolus had no qualms chugging soda whenever he pleased. Ignis couldn't believe anyone handled something that sugary so early and was unable to hide the twisting of his lips whenever the man did it. Gladiolus' grin wasn't hidden by the aluminum can, indicating that he probably knew full and well Ignis' stance on carbonated drinks at breakfast and thought it hysterical.

"And good morn to you," Ignis said. He took a deliberate sip of his coffee, trying to retain his dignity and ignore Gladiolus' poor life choices. "Sleep well?"

"Well, I've slept worse. Not certain when exactly, but I'm sure of it. What's for breakfast?" he asked.

"Nothing exciting, I'm afraid to report. Our supplies are rather a sorry sight."

Gladiolus took the lid off the pot and stared down at the oatmeal, sighing a little. "What I wouldn't do for some real bacon or sausage right about now. I've been thinking about our excursion later today and maybe taking Noct hunting would do us some good. Steak sound all right?"

"Heavenly, actually. While you're at it, I may have the change to spare if the both of you could swing by the convenience store and pick up some eggs." He'd contemplated omelets earlier, but steak coated with an egg and vegetable sauce would make for an improved meal at dinner. Their diets were lacking in protein and if he could remedy that Ignis might feel better about their prospects in future conflicts.

"I'll see what I can do. And hey, we're running low on potions, too. Might as well budget for that on top of it."

Ignis tilted his head. "Are you certain you're not asking for more to goad Noctis with chocolate?"

Pausing in his spooning two bowls with oatmeal, Gladiolus chuckled. He resumed his task and said, "You caught me. But you gotta admit that a little bribery never hurt anyone, right? That'll definitely get prince charmless moving."

He handed Ignis one of the bowls of food and was about to sit down with his own when he noticed Prompto pushing back the tent flap and come crawling out. The opening was left exposed, no doubt to encourage Noctis to wake up, but it was a fool's hope. One of them would still have to go and fetch him a little later, before his food went cold.

"Do I smell breakfast?" Prompto asked and stumbled over to Gladiolus. His attempt to peer over the much taller man's bulky shoulders proved pointless, so he jumped and hung from around Gladiolus' neck. The royal guard took being clung to rather blithely; he was more than capable of carrying Prompto's weight.

"Yep. But you're too late, it's all gone," he said.

"Liarrr." Prompto snagged Gladiolus' bowl, ducking under the arm that swiped at him, and joined Ignis by the circle of folding chairs. Curling into his seat, Prompto crossed both legs and used his lap as a sort of placemat to hold the container while he ate.

Ignis retrieved the berries in that time and added a few to his meal, stirring them in and blowing on each spoonful to cool the still hot oatmeal. Prompto ate the fruit on their own, popping them in his mouth between bites of his porridge. At the base of his chair was another, smaller bag where he'd found two sealed containers of honey they'd taken from a diner several towns back and chose to smother his oatmeal with it rather than follow Ignis' example.

In contrast to them both, Gladiolus ate his new bowl of oatmeal plain. He was careful not to spill anything, but managed to shovel it down as quick if not quicker than Prompto. Growing up with a younger sibling as he did, Ignis wasn't surprised that the man ate with such gusto.

"You gonna finish that?" Prompto asked, already done with his first serving and eyeing Ignis'. There was a gleam that he recognized as something crafty, and not willing to deal with his antics this early Ignis opted to share what was left of his. Adding a few more berries for nutrients, he handed the bowl to him.

"Try not to choke, if you would. That would be most undignified," Ignis warned as he rose to his feet, intending on waking Noctis. Prompto might have replied, except his mouth was full and the words were indistinguishable from his chewing.

Ducking inside the tent, he spotted Noctis curled up against the far wall, trying to become one with the thick fabric. He'd adjusted further inward to avoid any of the sunlight filtering through the entrance, the beams of light ending at his coattail. His back was towards him.

"Come-come, rise and shine, Your Highness," Ignis intoned, and gently lifted his arm aside. Underneath, Noctis' eyes were clenched shut in refusal. "Breakfast is ready. Gladio and Prompto are threatening to eat your share if you don't hurry."

"What is it?" The words were mumbled, but Ignis was still capable of making them out.

"Well…" If he told the truth, Noctis would never be interested enough to wake up. Lying, even so much as fibbing, was not something Ignis was skilled at, either. The prince had an uncanny ability to see through his words – with all of them, really – so such a tactic was doomed to failure. "Does it matter? You'll need your strength today. I believe Gladio has plans for the both of you."

That perked Noctis up, his eyes blinking owlishly up at him. "Plans?"

"You will need to ask him for the finer details, but I believe a stop northward is in order. It's Tuesday. The gas station may have another shipment of those dreadful candies you so enjoy."

"Rrrgh."

Noctis sat up, but Ignis didn't leave until he was sure the prince was truly awake and not simply rolling over in his sleep. They exited the tent one at a time and rejoined the rest of the group. As Noctis groggily went about picking at his food, Gladiolus outlined his intentions of some additional one-on-one training in the area.

"Oh, do you think we'll be able to pick up more sodas?" Prompto asked, excitedly squirming in his chair. The stacked bowls in his lap threatened to spill to the ground.

Ignis said in Gladiolus' stead, "Kindly don't spend all our meager savings at once. Furthermore, there is enough for you and I to do here."

"Aw, _what?_ " To his surprise, Prompto sounded genuinely upset at the prospect of staying behind. He directed his pout to Gladiolus and then Noctis. "How come you get to do the fun stuff and I'm stuck here with chores?"

"Tough break," Noctis said, unapologetic at deferring to Ignis' suggestion.

"We'll try and bring you back a souvenir." Gladiolus got to his feet and waved for Noctis to follow. It was best if they started sooner rather than later; it was a lengthy journey across rough terrain to reach the mini-mart. If they were to make it there and back, not to mention sprinkle in some training, it would take the entirety of the day to accomplish.

Prompto groaned and slid deeper into his chair, almost falling right out of it. "This is totally unfair."

"Enough whining. Help me spruce up this pigsty," Ignis instructed. He'd slept in his jacket. The wrinkles were deplorable, but the nights were chilly. Its meager protection was more important than appearances. Now, with the sun rising and threatening to overheat him later, Ignis removed it. Folding the article of clothing, he set it aside on the back of his chair to get down to work.

First order of business was tidying up their dining area. During their camping excursions they minimized non-recyclables as best they could. Paper plates and plastic utensils were a waste and a liability, so dishes needed to be cleaned. While scrubbing the pot Ignis observed that Prompto's attention was diverted from the task of wiping down their bowls. His gaze was in the direction their friends had gone.

"They will be fine," Ignis reminded him, saying it to comfort Prompto as much as himself. He still disliked that they were split up – they functioned better as a team than divided entities. But there were instances where such an option was required. Best to test the results now than when the choice was taken from them.

"Hm? Uh, yeah. I'm sure they're doing just…great." Prompto glanced his way long enough to tell him that, and then resumed staring out at the fields and waterscapes. His hands repeated the same motions on autopilot. Forcefully, Ignis had to get a grip on the container in Prompto's hold, lest he rub a hole through the bottom. He didn't let go until he knew the other man was paying attention.

He asked, "Prompto, is there something else the matter? This is twice in the span of two days that I've caught you out of sorts." Ignis attempted for nonchalant, so as not to alarm his companion, but was unsuccessful. Already he could identify the signs of the blond man closing off.

"Dude, you worry way too much! I'm one-hundred percent, bonafide, a-okay. What do I have to be worried about, anyway? I mean _personally_ , because, sure, the Empire and whatnot. I haven't forgotten them, but it's really Noct who…" A frown overcame Prompto's face; with his features it resembled another pout. As if agitated, he ran the back of his hand along his cheek and smeared suds across it.

"All the same, should you require my services, you may confide in me. I have been told by many that I can be quite the strategist. Maybe I can offer you a solution to your problem," Ignis persisted.

"Problem? What problem? I just told you I don't have a problem," he said. His words came faster. "So thanks, but no thanks! I mean, _if_ I had a problem you'd be my go-to guy, except nothing's wrong."

Ignis stopped his ministrations to take in his body language. He looked ready to jettison into the stratosphere under the power of his squirming alone, but Prompto was always a bit jittery. "…All right, if you insist."

"I do," he stressed.

"Splendid."

"Awesome." They started where they left off for all of ten seconds before Prompto asked, "Why do you think there's a problem? Just wondering."

"As I mentioned, you just seemed pensive, but my mistake. Think nothing of it," he said.

"Is it because of yesterday?" The inflection in his voice wasn't _angry_ , that much Ignis could discern, although there was a distinct edge to it that gave him pause. "I told you I was sorry, didn't I? Those monster troopers just took me by surprise. It won't happen again."

Their eyes locked, but when Ignis made to respond Prompto deflated. Jumping to his feet, he dusted off his pants. "Um, never mind. Look, I know this is important, but I just remembered something. I'll be right back." And he left.

Ignis stayed kneeling, hands on his thighs as he attempted to process everything that'd just transpired. That reaction was certainly new and he wasn't sure what to make of the defensive behavior, other than proof that something was amiss. Prompto had sounded sore; it occurred to Ignis that his line of questioning may have been interpreted as accusatory or interrogative, rather than borne of concern.

 _Does no one know how to stay put?_ he thought, miffed as their group splintered off a second time. Ignis wanted to hunt Prompto down for clarification, but neither of them were in any state to be agreeable. He mused that pursuing him right away may do further damage, so he'd permit the man to stew a couple minutes and hopefully compose himself.

"Hm." Returning to himself, he noted that he'd been stuck with the sole duty of washing the dishes. Along with mending the clothes and inventorying their supplies. It kept him occupied, if nothing else.

So occupied, in fact, that lunch had passed and Prompto did not return. Ignis was finishing the last update to the provisions chart he kept stored on his cell phone, discouraged at the pathetic state of their supplies. He sincerely hoped that Noctis' and Gladiolus' shopping trip was successful.

His eyes watered as he came back to himself. Staring at the tiny screen for that long made them sensitive to looking at the sky. In doing so he was shocked to find the sun traveling past its zenith; more than the ten or so minutes he'd allotted Prompto had gone by.

Closing the app, he opened the messaging screen and _almost_ texted Gladiolus. Ignis would have preferred updates as the day wore on, but sometimes no news was good news. Besides, he could predict the teasing the royal guard would convey through the screen at Ignis' fretting like a ninny, and tapped a different contact on his list.

 _Prompto, are you all right?_ he typed. Glowering at the missive, he pressed and held down on the delete button until the box was empty. _Prompto, where are you?_ Delete. _Prompto, are you ready to talk?_ Delete, delete, delete. Exhaling through his nose, Ignis sent, _Prompto, will you be joining me for a late lunch?_ He didn't have the chance to tuck the phone away before it beeped. A fat, belching chocobo emoji greeted him on the message window.

Brows furrowing, he sent another text, this one reading, _Should I not be expecting you back soon, then?_ His fingers remained hovering over the keyboard as an immediate reply came. Prompto refrained from using words again, this instance a chocobo giving a thumbs up with the feathers on its wing.

 _You are being ridiculous,_ Ignis wanted to send, his frustration mounting to a degree it rarely managed. Prompto had a way of bringing out that quality in him, whether he was present to do so or not.

"This has gone on long enough," he muttered and pocketed his phone. Glancing at their camp, the glowing of their wards were nigh invisible in the daylight. The defenses were in place, though, and the magic would have to be enough in his absence.

Prompto had set off in a hurry, but Ignis remembered the rough direction he'd scampered off to. Coupled with the particular images he'd sent, Ignis had a good idea where he might be hiding. The group had found a steep trail with jagged mountain walls on either side, and learned the unfortunate way that it was easy to get lost if they weren't careful. Prompto shared their ill-luck, but he wasn't suicidal and knew what crevices to avoid and which led to civilization. Or so Ignis _hoped_ as he trekked along the branch and leaf laden path to Wiz Chocobo Post. 

During the long walk, his stomach turning into knots was for naught. The ranch was closing, customers dispersing and the owner locking up his shop. Only one person other than the proprietor remained, and that was Prompto, who stood by the gate keeping the chocobos reined in.

He was hunched over the top rung, a shoe planted on the ground and the other resting on the fence. Prompto didn't acknowledge his arrival, but the shop owner did. He hesitated; Ignis shook his head and motioned him onward. The man nodded in thanks, tipping his hat, and padlocked the employee access door.

Once he'd wandered off and they were afforded some privacy, Ignis finished walking over to his teammate. He took a stance beside him. Prompto ignored his presence, but one of the chocobos was eager to greet a potential source of treats. Petting the bird in apology, Ignis ran his hand along its neck, starting under its massive head and down to its chest. Tiny, soft tweets like cooing thrummed under his fingers, the chocobo appeased.

"It's getting late," he started, since Prompto wasn't willing to talk. A disconcerting fact. "I saved you some granola, if you're inclined to snack."

"I already ate, promise. The store had some ice cream for real cheap," Prompto mumbled, and shrugged his shoulder in the direction of the aforementioned retailer. Ignis' teeth clenched to keep from berating him for his lapse in healthy decision-making, given the total lack of nutritional value in desserts, but there were pressing matters to address.

"Sorry for abandoning you earlier. I didn't mean to stiff you with all the chores. That was super un-cool of me."

Stroking the chocobo a final time, Ignis crisscrossed his arms and leaned his hip on the railing. He side-eyed him through the bottom corner of his lenses. "Is your apology truly sincere?"

"Yo! What do you mean by that? I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"Acting out, dismissing my inquiries, rushing off – _alone_ , might I add – into the wilds… I believe an explanation is in order, not a half-baked apology," Ignis said. Against his better judgment, he added, "Prompto, I can tell when you're troubled. It is only you and I here. If there is something you need help with, then allow me to assist you."

Facial features crumbling, Prompto looked as if Ignis had demanded he stand in front of a firing squad, rather than confide in him. He almost felt bad, but any residual guilt was stripped away when Prompto evaded answering him. "How'd a bookworm like you learn to fight, huh?"

"What does that possibly—"

"How to cast magic, handle a knife – that sort of thing. Did you really get so good from reading?" he questioned over Ignis' ire.

"My particular skill set was influenced by literary means, yes. Form, tactical maneuvers, gauging strengths and weaknesses… I have dedicated my life to studying what is expected of someone in my station." He paused here, wanting to emphasize very clearly, "But only so much can be gleaned from the pages of a book. I had to train physically as well as mentally, like everyone else."

"Gladio too, right? He's been practicing how to fight since he could carry a sword?" Prompto persisted.

Although there was no room for doubt, Ignis reaffirmed, "Yes, the Amicitia family has defended the rulers of Lucis for generations. His role was preordained and he takes such responsibility seriously – flippant attitude notwithstanding." Gently, he added, "Do not be mistaken. Gladio would protect us, too, were the situation to call upon it. We all look out for each other; none of us will permit anything to happen to you."

The reassurances did not have the desired effect. Ignis had hoped to assuage Prompto's fears, but his friend's fists clenched and he shoved away from the fence. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't want all of you risking your lives for me! For once, how about I be the one who— Never mind."

"No." They both came up short at Ignis' sharp tone. But at last, it felt as if they were on the cusp of getting to the bottom of the issue. "No, this is good. Go on."

Lips thinning, Prompto tossed his hands in the air. "Fine! I can't fail Noct, okay? I _can't_. Losing him, or Gladio, or _you…_ after losing our home… You're all I have left, you know?

"But what can I do? I'm not book smart like you, or as strong as Gladio, or have Noct's mystical, kingly powers. How am I ever going to keep all of you safe when I can barely protect myself?"

The question hung in the air. Ignis rubbed his chin, at a bit of a loss. For all his insight, he'd no idea that Prompto felt this way. Yet, looking back, he'd been dense _not_ to surmise this outcome. All the instances when Prompto aptly took in what they considered light sparring or made asides about their talents… It was apparent their compatriot was gauging their methods, wanting to learn from them and improve.

"Your self-worth is not exclusive to your ability to be useful to His Highness," Ignis said. Flailing his arms around, Prompto opened his mouth to protest, but he was ushered into silence. "Let me finish, please. I owe you an apology, so let me get on with it."

"Wait, _you're_ sorry? For what?" he asked.

"For ever giving you reason to doubt your importance. You do have gifts, albeit unrefined ones. None of us started out as proficient as we are today. You merely need practice."

Prompto snorted, but his curiosity was piqued. "Yeah, right. When can we plan those sessions? Before our two-o-clock ambush from the Empire or after our scheduled beating from mother nature?"

"Right now," he announced.

"Right…now?" Prompto asked, tilting his head. His bangs drifted into his eyes so he brushed them behind his ear.

Ignis' glasses glinted as he smiled, plan already formed in his head. "Correct. _Right_ now."

They relocated at Ignis' insistence, just below the stony hill where they would be staying the night. There was ample, open space for their purposes.

"So how exactly is this supposed to teach me anything?" Prompto asked, both hands rounded by his mouth to project his voice. He had to yell; Ignis was halfway across a field setting up what few aluminum food cans, soda bottles, and coffee tins they’d found stashed at camp.

Placing each container in a neat row along a broken fence, he said, "If you can strike a sitting target at twenty paces, then you can—"

" _What?_ Ignis, I can't hear you from there! Do you want me to move closer?"

Shaking his head, Ignis set the last object in place and returned to his side. He directed Prompto toward the assortment of marks. "As I was saying: from this distance, if you can consistently hit a target that small, then we'll be on our way to advancing you to the real thing."

"Ah. That makes sense," Prompto conceded, and simply stood there. Ignis arched a brow, the blond man catching his meaning; to start training he'd actually _need_ a weapon to practice with. Raising a hand, thumb up and fingers curled into his palm, flashes of silver turned into the sunlight glinting off the metal of a revolver.

His finger was kept off the trigger, but Prompto aimed the gun toward the line of targets on the fence. Ignis stepped in, grabbing Prompto's wrist and raising his free hand to steady the weapon, saying, "Start by keeping balanced."

"This feels weird," he protested, shifting from foot-to-foot. It was apparent that he wanted to drop his hand back to his side, Ignis having to hold it in place for emphasis. "And I don't look as cool!"

"We can work on your theatrics _after_ you have a basic understanding of the subject. Looking 'cool' won't save you from a stab wound if you permit the enemy too close," Ignis said.

"How do you know so much about guns, anyway? Aren't you a dagger kind of guy?" Prompto asked, lining up his shot.

"Blades and firearms are similar in certain respects." Ignis corrected Prompto's stance, lifting his chin with an encouraging swipe of his gloved finger, and directed his elbows. "You have seen me throw my daggers, yes? I turn them into projectile weapons, just as you deliver a bullet. I must select my target, take care to aim, and—" he double-checked the other man's posture, nodding, "—not hesitate to _release_."

At his command Prompto pulled on the trigger. The shot whizzed by an old water bottle filled with sand, it spinning in place two times and settling in place without falling over.

"Mm."

"Ah… I wasn't ready?" Prompto said.

"Give it another go." He made some minor adjustments to how Prompto held himself, and yet the next attempt was somehow worse. The bullet missed the entire lineup and embedded itself at the bottom of the nearby lake.

"I still wasn't ready?"

 _I'm overlooking something_ , Ignis could tell. The hands-on approach didn't seem to be working. Contemplating out loud, he said, "Perhaps a demonstration is in order? You could be a visual learner… That, or you are over-thinking the matter."

"Of course I'm thinking on it! There's wind speed to worry about and—" His mouth clamped shut at Ignis' hands being placed on each shoulder. It was rare for Ignis to go out of his way to make physical gestures, but the benefits to the contact were immediately apparent. Taking in a deep breath all on his own, Prompto inhaled and exhaled until he'd calmed.

"Those factors are important, I am not going to dissuade you otherwise. You will learn to harness your weapon, but be fair to yourself. Achieving that level of aptitude in less than a couple of months, much less twenty-four hours, is unheard of," Ignis reasoned. 

Prompto rolled his neck, but not hard enough to shrug him off. "I guess you're right."

"Do not give up," he said, his left hand giving a firm, reassuring squeeze.

A hardening in his eyes, very reminiscent to determination, came over Prompto. Straightening under Ignis' grip, he said, "I've never given up on anything I set my mind to. I'm not going to start now – no way, no how. Prompto Argentum isn't a quitter!"

Spinning him toward the mock shooting range, Ignis said, "Then show those targets what for."

Holding his resolute posture for a split second more, Prompto deflated and said, "You make it sound so easy."

"Have you not had training to become a Crownsguard?" The question was rhetorical, so Ignis continued with, "You've been in skirmishes before and I've seen what you are capable of. You're not a skilled marksman—" and he swiftly amended, "— _yet_ , but I would hardly consider you a novice. What makes this situation so difficult, or different?"

"It's not like I can point—" he spun the gun on his finger, low, at his hip, "shoot—" and like a spitfire he let one off, "and expect to hit anything! Weren't you just lecturing me about showmanship?"

The bullet struck a coffee can dead center, sand spewing out the hole the shot made on entry and out the back.

They both stared at the spectacle.

Letting in a huge gasp, Prompto dismissed his gun and slapped both hands to cup his cheeks. That's when the whooping and hollering began. "Did you see that? Tell me you saw that!" He didn't allow Ignis the chance to speak, rounding on him.

Minutely, Ignis shook his head back and forth, knowing what was coming, but it was too late. Prompto leapt at him, Ignis stumbling a step and letting out a tiny _oof_ , but thankfully not bowled over by the display. He was forced to bend at the knees, an arm around the other man's back for stability.

"Yes, good work," Ignis said, voice strained as he was forced to hold a wriggling and cheering Prompto. "Now do it again."

After the third hour of 'doing it again', Prompto stopped and stared at the fencing with the dented, holey, and mangled targets. His gun fizzled out of existence and without a single change in his demeanor he collapsed flat on his back. He declared, "I'm done. Finished. Caput. I've pushed myself to the brink of death."

"You say that every time," Ignis said without looking up from his stitching. Thirty minutes in to Prompto's assessment and he'd retrieved their pile of laundry, offering guidance while he multitasked. It was the last goal he'd set to accomplish for the day, their stockpile of torn and threadbare attire piling up to an alarming amount. All the extended traveling through harsh climates and physical confrontations were not kind to their urban aesthetic.

"This time it's true! I can't feel my arms or my hands or my…anything. I think I'm dying. There's a bright light getting closer…"

"If you're vying for my sympathy you can stop right there. Might I remind you that we're doing this at _your_ behest?"

"Oh. Right." Prompto turned his head and looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Do you think it's working?"

Pulling the needle through and securing the button in place, Ignis used his blade to snip the thread clean off. Normally he'd shake out the article of clothing to inspect it, but in this instance he folded it in his lap so he could give Prompto his undivided attention. It wasn't clear on his face that he was seeking Ignis' approval, but the waver in his voice indicated otherwise.

"It's too soon to tell, but I can sense a difference in your confidence. What do _you_ think?" he asked.

"I do. Feel more confident, I mean," Prompto said. The hesitation hadn't left his voice, the reason why apparent in his next choice of words. "Can we not…tell the guys about this? Noct's got enough on his plate already and Gladio would be a jerk about it."

Ignis didn't make a habit of keeping secrets from Noctis, nor Gladiolus for that matter. Their prince deserved their loyalty and honesty, and he couldn't fathom that Gladiolus would object to giving his own insight on the subject. He'd been the person to raise the crown prince on the sword, after all; the real problem might be Gladiolus' _enthusiasm_ at the prospect of more training.

But Ignis also understood that this wasn't his to give, and could admit that there wasn't much harm in it. Prompto acted outgoing and it could be easy for them to forget that he could be just as insecure as the rest of them. When it came to what was best for him, the one who knew was Prompto himself. Inclining his chin once in consent, Ignis promised, "I swear they will not hear of this from me, but I do think you should confide in them eventually. Noct and Gladio could teach you a thing or two, as well."

"Maybe," he said, and might have expanded on the thought if a gasp hadn't left him instead. Scrambling upright, he summoned his gun. "Watch out!"

Having never dismissed his dagger, at the first growl Ignis twirled it in his grip and stabbed the weapon backwards. The saberclaw yipped as he slashed down its entire side, the creature losing traction and collapsing in the dirt. _Sloppy_ , Ignis chided himself, having become so engrossed in his sewing and tutoring of Prompto that he'd lost sight of his own advice. He hadn't heard the beasts coming in the slightest.

More raced up behind him. Ignis was unable to avoid all of them. Halfway to his knees and something with giant paws planted itself on his back, knocking him to the ground. In the scuffle that ensued his glasses were knocked aside, rendering Ignis doubly disorientated.

Razor sharp teeth snapped at his neck, but he twisted hard to the left and caught them on his arm instead. He had but one hand to stab a blade into the biggest part of the mottled, brown blob on top of him. The strike must not have been fatal because the canine didn't release him, digging its teeth in deeper and thrashing around. Ignis felt skin tear wider and muscle burn, his grunt of pain drowned out by a gunshot.

The animal collapsed with little fanfare, its jaw slackening and dead body crashing on top of him. More bullets rang out, these in rapid succession, and accompanied by distressed yips. Prompto must have driven off the remaining saberclaws, their numbers too few for the beasts to venture retaliating, since his teammate was soon wrenching the animal carcass off him.

"Did I hit you? Tell me I didn't hit you! I was so scared I'd shoot you instead of that stupid, mangy saber, but if I didn't try, you'd… Oh jeez, your arm is _trashed_. Iggy, speak to me! What do I do? I don't know what to do—"

A blur of movement past the yellow and black form of his friend, and Ignis thrust his dagger straight up. Prompto yelped, but thankfully didn't dart in front of the saberclaw Ignis thought he'd first disposed of. This time, the creature didn't get back up.

Prompto gulped. "Ignis?"

"Yes?" he asked through gritted teeth. It didn't really help against the throbbing in his arm.

"Are you, ya know, okay?"

"Help me up," Ignis instructed, not wasting time with a status report. Eager to please, Prompto grabbed him by the upper portion of his good arm and hoisted him up enough to press against his back, into a sitting position. As soon as he was upright, Ignis groped around his inside breast pocket for an extra pair of spectacles and slid them onto his nose.

"Oh. You really do have a spare set."

"Of course," Ignis said, frowning. "Why would there be any doubt?"

"Look. You sound awfully calm for somebody that was almost torn in half. How are you feeling? Concussion? Double-vision?" he asked, patting him down.

"Don't be so melodramatic. It's merely a flesh wound." Ignis and Prompto both looked down at the injured arm braced against his chest. If he hadn't rolled up the sleeve of his shirt it would've been ruined beyond repair; now, he'd just have to pray the blood stains would come out in the wash. As for his limb, the real damage wasn't clear since the lacerations weren't visible underneath all the bleeding. No splintered bones peeked out, so it could be worse.

He amended, "I may be feeling a tad lightheaded. We should probably see to that."

"D-Do you think you can teach me how to use healing magic? I'm not very good at spells, but…"

The three of them were leery in drawing from Noctis' personal store of magic. His powers were not unlimited, and they were new, besides. Ignis wasn't sure this constituted an emergency that warranted the usage. However, the practical part of him did consider how it might come in handy someday. Of the three of them, Ignis was better seasoned in using elemental and medicinal spells, and it could leave them at a disadvantage if he were incapacitated.

Prompto was already adjusting to his knees. One hand braced under Ignis' arm, the other hovering over the worst of the tears. Ignis' mind was made up for him when faced with the other man's stubborn resolve.

"It's like pulling your weapon," he instructed, voice reluctant and strained – but quiet. His vision shook, threatening to induce a headache. Ignis refused to lose focus. "But don't think about the weight of a gun, the smell of gunpowder, or the gleam of metal in the sun. Think—"

He faltered. Explaining magic was difficult. All the texts he'd studied were vague at best, and he'd had to develop his own methods. Most of it just came naturally and became ingrained in his physical memory. "When you want to heal, think…soothing. Tranquility. Steady your heart rate and be at peace."

Face scrunching up in concentration, there was a shimmer that coated Prompto's fingertips. Ignis' skin tingled like a salve had been rubbed on it, but the bleeding didn't stop.

"That's right, keep at it," Ignis enthused in a soft timber. A sheen of sweat that left him feeling chilled threatened to ruin his own composure, but he didn't want to startle Prompto from his task. His voice seemed to do the trick; a cloud of magic burst over his arm at the encouragement.

On contact, the skin glowed green as it soaked in, the tissue knitting together and muscle underneath restoring itself. It wasn't enough to completely fix the bite marks, there puckered scarring left, but the risk of bleeding to death was nullified. Ignis would survive until medical rations were procured.

"Flawless execution," he congratulated. Beads of sweat coated Prompto's forehead and temples, but he was smiling at the praise. "I believe that's enough lessons for today. Agreed?"

Prompto breathlessly concurred with a, "Roger-dodger, Spec-man" and escorted him back up the hill to camp. He gathered their meager belongings under one arm and offered his other shoulder in support. Although his wounds weren't at risk of bursting open, Ignis kept the limb close to his chest and used his good arm to keep stable on Prompto when he felt about to stumble.

Progress was sluggish, but they had saber-kabobs that evening, so there was that. Prompto had gone back for the food at Ignis' request, never one to waste a meal opportunity on their tight budget. It was slow-roasted with onions and peppers, ready to serve when Gladiolus and Noctis arrived back. Ignis glanced up from turning the food over the fire to evenly cook it, taking in the sight of their bashful companions coated in patches of mud and grass stains. Somehow, Gladiolus had managed to get a twig stuck in the longer strands of hair on top of his head.

Eyes hooded, Ignis said, "Dare I ask?"

"Depends," Gladiolus started, gaze intent on the sling Ignis had crafted with one of Prompto's spare handkerchiefs, "do you want to go first?"

 _Not particularly_ , he wanted to say, but what Ignis said was, "Dinner wasn't agreeable."

"Same," they said in unison. Their answer didn't explain the lack of steaks, as Gladiolus had promised, but Ignis didn't pry further. A plastic bag, one in each of their hands, assuaged one of his fears. They'd at least accomplished making it to the convenience store.

At their voices, Prompto stirred from within the tent. He'd stayed up long enough to help prepare the food, since Ignis doing so with a single functioning arm wasn't ideal, but after he'd reassured him that his limb wasn't liable to fall off, he’d gone to rest. Prompto had more than earned his nap, never mind the drain magic had on the inexperienced was enormous. He was probably still feeling the ill effects of it on his body, but that didn't stop Prompto from ducking his head out the flap and enthusiastically welcoming their friends.

"About time you guys got back! We were about to send a search party for you," he said. Noticing their sullied appearance, Prompto let out a whistle. "What happened to you two? It kind of looks like you went rolling around with some garulas."

"Something like that," Gladiolus muttered. Noctis gave no comment and sulked over to Ignis' side of the fire. He dropped his bags on the ground and slid down beside him.

Prompto laughed. "Well, maybe I can help with that?" His meaning was made clear when he approached Gladiolus, holding his palm flat over his collarbone, but not touching. There was a deep scrape there, marring the man's tattoo.

Light sparked at his fingertips, but it wasn't until Prompto's eyes flickered toward them, straying on Ignis longer than on Noctis, that the spell was cast. The glow gradually increased, causing Gladiolus' whole chest to shimmer green. The scrapes and rashes were gone in a splash of healing magic.

"Whoa-oh! When did you learn that?" Gladiolus asked, patting himself down, but there was no damage left to be found.

"How do you know I wasn't always this awesome?"

"Are you telling me you've been holding out on us?" Gladiolus asked, and put the shorter man in a headlock.

While the two men squabbled, Ignis felt a gentle nudge in his ribs. Inclining his head, he was greeted with a potion at the tip of his nose. He murmured a word of gratitude, exchanging the medicine for one of the kabobs. Noctis nibbled on the food, ignoring the red and green peppers, and occasionally tolerating the onions between bites of meat.

Ignis clenched his hand, cracking the casing and activating the healing concoction within. He was forced to use his uninjured arm, there not enough strength in the other to crack the container, but he did so over the damaged one. The curative properties took effect near immediately. The blemishes smoothed away and the scarring became nonexistent, the strength in the limb restored. With an appreciative sigh he untangled his arm from its sling and inspected its dexterity. The arm’s full range of motion was back to normal, the muscles and tendons flexing smoothly as he made a fist and rotated his wrist.

"You guys were busy," Noctis observed. He was staring at Prompto, him and Gladiolus still at it. The two men were practically wrestling one another; Prompto was visibly at a disadvantage.

Ignis said, "We made do in your absence."

"Yeah. It's good to see him in better spirits," he said, the declaration causing Ignis to tense.

It didn't seem to matter how cryptic or subtle they'd been, seeing as Noctis had a clear idea that something had been wrong with Prompto. As His Highness' future advisor, a sense of pride swelled inside him at Noctis' observational prowess. And his care. If all his subjects received even a fraction of what he bestowed upon his friends, then there was hope for their kingdom yet.

He cleared his throat, unable to confess such thoughts. For all the prose he could wax or speeches he could quote, articulating his emotions was not in his repertoire. That, and there wasn't anything he could say that wouldn't incriminate someone. Prompto had trusted him not to mention the source of his fluctuating moods, and he was honor bound to it.

He offered Noctis another stick laden with food in hopes of dropping the subject, it proven successful when the prince made a pleased noise and resumed eating. The prospect of dinner must have been too great for Gladiolus, and Prompto, too, since the smaller man screamed uncle until the royal guard gave his hair a final tousle. They circled around the fire, taking their share of the meal.

The sun was setting and the world calming down all around them. Noctis eventually dozed off, forehead pressed against Ignis' shoulder in a way very unbecoming of royalty. No doubt wrinkles and other unsightly imprints would be left, but Noctis looked too peaceful to justify being disturbed and relocated to the tent.

Gladiolus was eating long after the rest of the group had gotten their fill. He'd remembered his talk of souvenirs, namely in the form of snapshots he'd taken during his trip with Noctis. They were nowhere near the quality of Prompto's photography; the blond man gushed over the tilted landscapes, cutoff images of wild chocobos, and blurry classic cars, anyway.

Despite resting earlier, there were dark impressions under Prompto's eyes. He looked up and caught Ignis staring, opting to scoot over on his knees so he could see the pictures, too. Up close, while narrating the photos he'd not even been a part of, looking pale and a little shaky from the strain of the day, he was still grinning and joking again. Ignis decided that Prompto was more content than he'd been since yesterday. Maybe even in days. And in turn, Ignis relaxed for the first time since their journey began.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content!


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